


find yourself a new gig

by theheartfalls



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, nothing truly romantic but you can pretend if you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheartfalls/pseuds/theheartfalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time will pass and things will change, but only as much as they allow. And they don't. They simply don't allow it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	find yourself a new gig

**Author's Note:**

> I was having a mild breakdown over the idea of these boys losing each other after a band break-up and I wrote this to make myself feel better. A little angst, a little fluff, it's just how I do. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my best friend for proof reading. I was a bit distraught and needed it, big time.

_If heaven’s grief brings hell’s rain  
Then I’d trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday_

The bar was packed, people filling up stools and lining the walls. Twenty-something year old women, reluctant boyfriends, and even a few girls who looked like they could possibly be underage. Niall had seen it all before, would see it all the next night as well, but it never got old.

It wasn’t the arenas he had once experienced, didn’t even come close to Madison Square Garden, but it was a dream of its own. It held a beauty in its own right. These tiny bars, with their small stages and malfunctioning microphones, had character. They had a dream that he had completely skipped over when his life had skyrocketed into something much bigger than he had ever pictured for himself. He’d never say he was ungrateful for the life he’s lived, and even though he’s barely into his mid-twenties, he’s done things other people his age have only imagined in their wildest fantasies. He’s lived better than he could have hoped. 

Still, in all of the things he’s done, he never got to be a starving artist. He never played in seedy bars, with only his guitar for company and a few people sitting around, wishing the Irish kid with the horrible blonde hair would just shut up already. That’s something he missed, and while others would think it was stupid, he always wished he knew what that felt like.

It would never be perfect. There would always be a girl who had been in her teenage years not too long ago, wide-eyed and amazed to see Niall Horan, One Direction member, playing in her local pub. She’d text her friends, they’d text their’s, and soon they’d fill the space and he’d have a full audience with expectations. He’d never be ‘boo’-ed off a stage or ignored properly, but that was okay. 

The stage was small, the lights were too bright, and sometimes the microphones would cut out and that was good enough. He’d done everything else he’d ever imagined. This was perfectly fine now. 

~

He remembered the last days better than the first. He remembered when they were all packed into a tiny office, too close together on a couch that was unnatural large, too much useless space when they were all so close. He remembered Liam’s hand gripping his shoulder tightly as they were told “It’s just not selling, guys,”. He remembered all the third album promotion and the time wasted planning a tour that would never happen. 

He remembered the press conferences the most. The way cameras flashed and questions were harsh and how, by the end of the last one, when they made their final announcement, Harry had to walk him off the stage first before he started crying. 

He remembered it all vividly, because it was like watching his dreams and his hopes and his only chance wash down the drain. He had no allusions about it. The life he’d known, the fame and the amazing opportunities, were over.

He, Niall Horan, was done. 

Not that he was worried for his friends. He had faith in them completely, knew they’d get through this perfectly.

Harry and Zayn, with their unique styles and incredible voices. He already saw their bright solo careers looming ahead. Liam, too, because everyone loved him so much, even if his voice was a bit more generic. He knew how to own it and that’d get him everywhere. Even if that didn’t pan out, Liam was smart. He’d do something sensible. And Louis, who was too charismatic for his own good, too bright and too talented in any way he wanted… Louis would do anything he set his mind to, even if music wasn’t involved at all.

They would all be fine. All four of them. 

He remembered thinking these things and he remembered the days as they all came to fruition. 

He remembered watching Louis’ first professional footie match, cheering from the stands in the VIP box. That was before Louis started travelling and Niall and the others couldn’t follow him around to watch him play. But that was okay. They emailed and texted. They kept in touch.

He remembered buying Zayn’s first album, both hard copy and on iTunes, the day it went on sale and listening to it three times through.

(He didn’t cry until later, when he was flipping through the booklet inside and saw his name as one of the first in a long list of people Zayn had to thank.)

He can still picture the glee on Harry’s first when he told him about his own record deal, and how it would take longer because he didn’t want it to clash with all the radio work he would be doing as well now, too. Mostly behind the scenes, but that was fine with him. He preferred it that way, at least for the present time. 

He was there on the night of Liam’s first run of Funky Buddha, drinking and partying just like the rest of them in honor of their friends new business venture. He’s pretty sure he’s never had a hangover that severe in his lifetime, but Liam was worth it. 

He remembered all of these things and more. Like the emails, as they started to come later and later, and the phone calls that went unanswered (and eventually unreturned). He recalled all of the football matches he didn’t TiVo and the interviews he never watched because he just didn’t have time. 

Yet to this day, he can’t once recall what he was doing instead. He can only remember what he was missing out on. What they were all missing now. 

He remembered moving back to Ireland. 

He remembered the day Zayn called him about him tour, too. He remembered that day the best. 

~

“Niall, you little fuck, get your ass out of bed!” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at the loud voice blaring from his cell phone. He didn’t move to get up, just pulled the phone back from his ear and chuckled tiredly as he deleted the message before he even finished it. He didn’t need to. 

He simply hit Zayn’s speed dial number (because a lot has changed but he won’t take them off of there), and sighed as he waited for the verbal abuse that was coming his way.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” 

That was Zayn’s opener and Niall just mumbled an agreement because there wasn’t any use defending himself. He really was a completely horrendous friend. 

“I had to call a cab! I sat in an airport for two hours waiting on you and I ended up calling a cab!” 

That had Niall wincing, because Zayn waited for him. He really had one job, and he mucked it up royally. 

“I’m really sorry, mate.” Niall grumbled as he forced himself out from between the sheets and into his bathroom, assessing the damage to his hair from restless sleep. 

“Not yet, but you will be.” The statement was punctuated by a stream of curses and insults, followed by a blaring horn that Niall heard through the speaker and outside his flat. “I’m coming up. Don’t try and hide. I’ll kick the door in.” 

The line went dead and Niall just shook his head and smiled as he raced to the front door to unlock it. He didn’t fully believe Zayn was joking about kicking the door down. 

As soon as it opened and Zayn stepped inside, they were hugging and Niall couldn’t help but sigh. It’d been so long but he can still name the exact cologne that Zayn was wearing. It was never the same thing twice, but he was as consistent as ever. 

“Good to see you.” Zayn said quietly, lips close to Niall’s ear so the words were a whisper, like a secret. Like he shouldn’t be having to say it at all. 

Maybe he shouldn’t. Niall really wished he didn’t. 

“Well, come on in. You can drop your bags anywhere.” Niall told him, breaking the embrace to lead him past the entryway. 

“I think I forgot how ridiculous Irish drivers are. Your people are nuts.” Zayn commented as he does just that, setting the bag on his shoulder on the couch as he followed Niall through the apartment. 

Niall just nods, because he has no idea what to say. Zayn’s there, in his flat, in Ireland, and he can’t actually remember how long it’s been since they properly saw each other. Possibly Harry’s birthday party? But that would mean…

Eight months. It’s been eight months. 

Granted, Zayn had been on tour since then, but that just doesn’t seem like an excuse when they’re here now and they fall back into an easy silence that they used to know so well. 

“So, how long are you here for again?” Niall asked once he’d shown Zayn the guest bedroom and they were seated at the kitchen table. 

Zayn smiles a little sadly and Niall can see it isn’t long enough at all. “A week, at most.” he admitted with a slight shrug. “I wanted a break after this, but they added extra Germany dates after this so I just can’t do it.” 

Niall chuckled, because it was easier than being disappointed, and flicked Zayn’s arm, right on his M.S.G. tattoo. “Big superstar, you are.” 

Zayn returned the flick to Niall’s bare skin and wrinkled his nose a little. “So are you, Ni.” 

Niall didn’t argue, but he wanted to. 

~

Later, when Niall’s ordered Chinese food and they’re sitting on the couch surrounded by containers and beer bottles, Zayn mutes the television and turns to look at him with a serious expression. 

“How well do you know my album, Nialler?” he asked, slipping into the old nickname without even thinking about it and taking Niall completely off guard. 

“Is this a test?” Niall shoots back, rolling his eyes and taking another swig of his drink. “Got that memorized, you know that.” he added before Zayn could respond. Just a few weeks before, he had tweeted lyrics from the title track, and Zayn had favorited it. 

Zayn nodded then. “Do you think you could play the songs?” he asked quickly, and Niall didn’t know what he was getting after but he nodded. He’d played around with learning them in his downtime, but he wasn’t going to admit that. “I want you to play for me in the show tomorrow night.” 

Niall nearly choked on his next drink as the words left Zayn’s mouth and he was positive he looks like a deer caught in headlights but he nodded anyway because, of course, how could he ever turn that down?

Zayn just nodded, eyes roaming Niall’s face for a second, before turning back to the screen and unmuting it, getting absorbed in some stupid reality show once more.

He can’t really guess that he made Niall’s year with his simple request. He probably had no idea. 

~

They were backstage, Niall’s hands fidgeting nervously, and Zayn’s as cool as ever. He had never been one to get nervous to begin with, at least not outwardly. He kept it bottled it, used it as some sort of fuel, but on the outside he was always relaxed and ready to go. 

Maybe it was because Niall hadn’t been on a proper stage in years. It definitely probably had something to do with the fact that his recent crowds didn’t have more than twenty or thirty people to them on a good night. Whatever the case, Niall was going crazy. 

“Was it always this stressful?” he asked out of no where, making Zayn laugh in surprise. 

“You always stress. Chill out. You know you’ll be brilliant.” Zayn reprimanded, patting his shoulder and looking every bit as encouraging as he sounds. 

He was right, of course. Niall had the songs down and as soon as he was there, coming out from the stage unexpectedly and falling right into place beside Zayn on his first acoustic song of the night, the crowd went crazy. 

He played the rest of the show, always standing close to Zayn. If he strayed to far away, suddenly Zayn would be there with an arm slung around his shoulder. Once or twice, Zayn would shove the microphone in his face and Niall would sing a line, effectively causing everyone in the arena to explode in screams. A few times Zayn would make him harmonize on the chorus and that was fine. 

Zayn was Niall’s favorite person to sing with. Always had been. He was starting to think he always would be.

By the time they ran off the stage, sweating and out of breath, the last song done, Niall was feeling a high he hadn’t felt in a long time. He cheered loudly and Zayn wrapped him up in a hug and it was like falling backwards in time. 

Back to when there were three other bodies involved in the hug.

“Was that always that… That…” He was at a complete loss, but Zayn was there, word at the ready, just like always.

“Empowering. The word your looking for is empowering.” 

It was so much more than that, but Niall just nodded and smiled as Zayn wrapped him in his arms once more because empowering felt pretty good, too. 

~

He remembered the rest of the week, sitting VIP for the rest of the shows, spending an entire week with one of the best friends he had ever had in his life. 

He remembered sitting up eating crappy take away and hearing samples of Zayn’s new album before anyone else in the world. He remembered Skyping with Harry one night when they run out of other things to do. 

He remembered how easy it all was, even after so much time apart. 

He remembered hoping it would be like this forever. 

He could still feel how tightly Zayn hugged him before they went their separate ways at the airport and he still heard Zayn’s promise to be back soon, or fly him out, or just call him more. 

He remembered thinking that, yeah, they’ll always have each other. Time and distance can’t change everything. Especially for friendships this strong. 

They’d never let it.


End file.
